


let's be honest

by honooko



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Coming Out, Everybody is Queer, M/M, unbothered pansexual hwanwoong is just such a mood okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25246093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honooko/pseuds/honooko
Summary: Youngjo bumps into some old friends that he wished he hadn't; Hwanwoong notices, and puts two and two together.
Relationships: Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Yeo Hwanwoong
Comments: 11
Kudos: 223





	let's be honest

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by the prompt line "I can't keep kissing strangers and pretending they're you." This is also my first ONEUS fic! To my intense relief, it's short for once in my life. I'm on the twitters, same username as every where.

Youngjo was trying to think if there had ever been a more awkward situation in his life, and while a few things did surface that he had hoped were purged from his brain forever, the current one was ranking upsettingly high. There he was, sitting at a table with Hwanwoong, waiting for burgers, fiercely debating the merits of bringing some home for the members, minding his own business.

“If they find out and we don’t bring them anything, they’ll be sulky,” Youngjo argued.

“Dongju would eat four burgers by himself,” Hwanwoong pointed out. “And then everyone else will be sulky if they don’t also get four burgers. Did you bring enough cash for sixteen additional burgers, because I sure didn’t.”

Before Youngjo could reply, someone called his name.

“Kim Youngjo? Holy shit, it _is_ you!”

Oh no. Oh no, no no, _no_. His panic must have been extremely obvious because Hwanwoong frowned at him. There was no time to explain, or escape, because Gung Inho was pulling a chair up to their table with a big, friendly smile on his face; immediately behind him was another familiar face: Ho Myunghee.

“Youngjo!” she said, equally bright. “Wow, it’s been years, hasn’t it? Can we join you?”

“Yes,” Youngjo said, forcing a smile, aware that he couldn’t exactly refuse when they’d already settled in. Hwanwoong was still looking at him in that incredibly perceptive way of his that always made Youngjo feel a little bit like he was being studied. When he realized the pair were glancing between him and Hwanwoong expectantly, he added, “This is Yeo Hwanwoong. We—work together.”

Most of his friends from high school knew he was a trainee, but he kept the specifics vague. Hwanwoong, raising his eyebrows at the bare-bones introduction, turned his smile on Inho and Myunghee without faltering. 

“Hi,” he said warmly. “I’m guessing you guys went to school together or something?”

“High school,” Inho confirmed. “Actually, wait, no, we went to the same junior high too. I always forget about that.”

Youngjo hadn’t forgotten. 

“We were—close, in high school,” Youngjo explained softly. He wasn’t going to go into the whole story—sitting two seats behind Inho for three years in junior high school, completely unnoticed, only to end up in the same class again for high school. At least that time, Inho knew he existed. They hung out a few times, hit it off, and quickly fell into a rhythm of sorts.

“This guy was over at my house all the time,” Inho laughed. “My parents liked him better than they liked me. Always threatened to disown me and adopt him instead.”

Youngjo smiled at the memory, but judging by the way Hwanwoong’s foot gently nudged his shin, there was something bitter in it.

“I was always so jealous of your sleepovers,” Myunghee said. “I was half convinced you were lying to me and Youngjo was your boyfriend or something.” The pair of them laughed, and Youngjo did so only half a beat too late to get past Hwanwoong’s attentive ears. 

“You guys were always endgame, come on,” Youngjo attempted. Myunghee beamed, holding up her hand to show a less-than-discreet diamond ring on her finger. Inho caught her hand and kissed the back of it, which earned him a playful shove.

“Ultimate endgame,” Inho said without taking his eyes off his fiancée’s face. “You knew it before either of us, right Youngjo?”

“Yep,” Youngjo said, surprised at how quickly the misery was returning to him. He hadn’t had to fake his feelings in front of people this much in a long time, but this particular wound was both deep, old, and familiar. 

“That’s sweet,” Hwanwoong commented. “You two seem happy.”

“We are, most days,” Myunghee said, winking at Inho. Before the conversation could continue, the waiter turned up with their burgers, and Youngjo turned his attention away from the people that had, however accidentally, briefly ruined his life, and to the food. Unfortunately, Inho and Myunghee stayed, making cheerful conversation and “catching up” that mostly involved discussing their lives with Hwanwoong, while Youngjo just sat quietly wishing it was all over.

He couldn’t help but notice Inho in the most painful of ways: he still laughed in that dorky kind of way. He was styling his hair differently, but it suited the shape of his face. His hands were just as distracting as ever, if even more painful to look at knowing there would be a wedding ring on it soon.

The only thing keeping him from completely zoning out was Hwanwoong’s small hand resting on his knee under the table. It was enough to get him through his burger, and as soon as he was done, Hwanwoong immediately jumped up.

“Oh shoot, look at the time!” he said. “Sorry, company curfew, we’re going to be late.”

“Oh no,” Myunghee said. “I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to keep you out—”

“It’s fine,” Youngjo assured her quickly. “We do have to leave though, sorry.” As Hwanwoong collected their dishes and trash to take back to the counter, Youngjo attempted to follow—only for Inho’s hand to land heavy on his shoulder.

“It’s been a long time, Youngjo,” he said warmly. “I miss hanging out with you, we should catch up.”

Youngjo _hated_ the way his heart flipped.

“Sure,” he said, wincing. “I’ll... text you sometime.” Hwanwoong waved at the couple as they exited the restaurant. At first they jogged, but as soon as they were out of sight, Hwanwoong reduced to a leisurely stroll. 

“We’re not late,” Youngjo observed quietly.

“Not yet,” Hwanwoong agreed.

“You lied to them.”

“You wanted to leave,” Hwanwoong said. When Youngjo frowned for a moment, Hwanwoong raised his eyebrows. “Was I wrong?”

“No,” Youngjo confirmed, dropping his head and continuing to walk. The silence between them felt... different. Depending on their moods, they could bounce between animated conversation or comfortable quiet, and both felt fairly natural. Hwanwoong was an easy person to talk to, with a willing and open ear. Youngjo tried to be more like Hwanwoong in that respect, but he was never quite sure if he’d managed it. 

Hwanwoong was the first to speak, and his voice was soft and careful.

“You must have really been in love, huh,” he said.

Youngjo’s feet stopped moving. It took a few steps for Hwanwoong to notice Youngjo wasn’t just beside him, and he turned back with a questioning expression.

“Hyung?”

“Why—how—”

“The two of them—something about them _really_ bothered you,” Hwanwoong explained. “I wasn’t sure until the very end, but... he really did a number on you, didn’t he.”

Youngjo was going to be sick. Or cry. Or scream. He didn’t even decide to sit down so much as his legs gave out and he managed to aim his fall towards the curb. Hwanwoong was so quick to get to him Youngjo wondered if he flew. His mind was so _loud_ , with every fear, disapproval, rejection, and nightmare shrieking all at once. Hwanwoong knew. Hwanwoong had seen it in him and just known without being told. Hwanwoong had figured it out in less than an hour.

Youngjo’s hands were clutching at his head as he fought to breathe.

Then he felt Hwanwoong’s arms around his shoulders, pulling him close and doing his best to calm Youngjo by gently stroking his hair and speaking to him.

“You’re fine,” he said, voice warm. “You’re okay, you’re safe.”

“You know,” he gasped.

“That doesn’t mean anyone else does,” Hwanwoong replied.

“You _saw it_ ,” Youngjo pressed.

“Yeah, but I was looking for it,” Hwanwoong said. Before Youngjo had time to process that particular statement, Hwanwoong was gently pushing him back until they were eye to eye.

“It’s obvious you’re scared,” Hwanwoong informed him. “I’m not here to tell you that’s not a valid way to feel—but I do hope you know that you don’t have to be scared of _me_ , right?”

“You won’t tell anyone?”

“It’s not my story to tell, hyung,” Hwanwoong reminded him. “...But if you want to talk about it, I know now.”

Youngjo debated it; internally, he still felt like every organ in his chest was bouncing around his ribcage and his brain had lost the ability to form words in favor of mindless chaotic screaming. But there was a tiny part of him, the same part that liked the way Hwanwoong interlocked their fingers when they held hands, that said ‘This person is safe.’

“...I sat a couple seats behind him in junior high, but he didn’t know that until high school,” Youngjo started, feeling like the words were catching on his back teeth. “Once we were friends, we—we were really close, and my stupid crush just—it got stronger. I knew it wouldn’t happen. I knew it was just me. I knew—I knew he’d find a girl and she’d be the center of his world.”

“Like you used to be,” Hwanwoong interjected. 

“Yeah,” Youngjo said. “Myunghee transferred to our school about halfway through second year. Inho... liked her pretty much immediately, but she wasn’t sure about him, so she...”

“...She asked you, didn’t she,” Hwanwoong said.

“I told her,” Youngjo said. “I told her all about him. I told her all the reasons I—of course she liked him after that. I gave her the greatest sales pitch of all time and I meant every word.” He dropped his head.

“They started dating, and I started being too busy to hang out. The end.”

Hwanwoong’s fingers were running through his hair, coaxing Youngjo to rest his head on Hwanwoong’s narrow shoulders. He sighed and put his arms around Hwanwoong’s waist; it always felt comfortable to hug Hwanwoong; he wasn’t just short, he was also small in a way that meant Youngjo could clutch him like a teddy bear and not be crushing him to death in the process. Hwanwoong fit, he _always_ fit. It was part of the reason his hands and eyes always lingered longer than they really should.

Youngjo wasn’t sure how long they sat there, holding each other on a darkened alley halfway between the burger joint and the dorm, but eventually he regained enough control of himself to decide they actually did need to go home. He pulled away, standing up, and Hwanwoong fussed with his hair and shirt collar, standing so close Youngjo could see the top of his head.

“I think everyone’s high school love life is its own kind of chaos,” Hwanwoong said quietly, smoothing his hands down Youngjo’s front. He turned around and started to walk off, at which point his words actually sunk in.

“Wait,” he said, catching up and grabbing Hwanwoong by the elbow. “Are we—are you okay with this?”

“What’s ‘this’?” 

“This—me. With me.”

“Am I... okay... with you?” Hwanwoong asked, sincerely confused.

“With—that I’m—”

“Gay?” Hwanwoong filled in bluntly.

“Yeah,” Youngjo said, “G—gay.” Hwanwoong laughed and started walking again.

“I told you, high school was chaos,” he repeated, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“Oh yeah?” Youngjo asked, still a little shaky. “What’s your story then?”

“Towards the end of my first year in high school, I started dating this girl,” he said. “Super cute, super funny, didn’t care she was taller than me in heels—we honestly had a great time together. And we were together for _ages_ , like over a year.”

Youngjo was about to interrupt him and ask him about the aforementioned chaos when Hwanwoong added, “And then she realized she was gay.”

“She—”

“Lesbian. Not even bi, totally only interested in other girls. It was kind of confusing for both of us because... we really did have a great thing going, you know? It was when we tried to like. Mess around, I guess? It was weird. It was awkward and uncomfortable and we both kind of wrote it off as ‘we don’t know what we’re doing’ so we decided okay, probably a sign we’re not ready for that stuff anyway,” Hwanwoong said, flapping his hand in a vague gesture of dismissal.

“Turns out that was less to do with our age and more to do with how much she was not into guys. She even has a theory now that I kind of got a pass just because I’m not some huge brickhouse of a man, I’m... well, we wore the same size jeans. I didn’t make her uncomfortable until she really couldn’t avoid thinking about me as a man.”

“That sucks, I’m sorry,” Youngjo said without thinking.

“Oh, no, its fine!” Hwanwoong said quickly. “Truly, we’re still friends now, and we stayed super close even after she came out to me and a couple other friends. She’s way happier now and I’m really happy _for_ her.”

“Were you angry?” Youngjo asked. 

“What was there to be angry about?” Hwanwoong asked with a shrug. “We were figuring things out. She didn’t lie to me, she just didn’t know. When she did know, she told me right away. It’s not like I have any room to talk here, I had some more identity to explore myself.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?!”

Hwanwoong blinked at him with those big beautiful doe eyes.

“Does anything about me scream ‘heterosexuality’ to you, because if it does, I’m concerned for you,” Hwanwoong said, pressing his palms together in front of his chest.

“Are you gay too?!” Youngjo squeaked.

“Not... exactly?” Hwanwoong said, sounding a bit more hesitant than he had thus far. When Youngjo just kept staring at him expectantly, he heaved a sigh.

“Okay so when my ex started actually like, exploring her identity, she brought me along because like I said, we were still really good friends. I was following her into all these queer spaces full of queer people and—a few times I kissed some people, you know?”

“Men?!”

“Sometimes,” Hwanwoong said, shrugging. “Sometimes women. Sometimes I’d get home and realize actually I had no clue what gender the person I kissed was, and I was more bothered by the fact that I quite rudely hadn’t asked than the fact that not knowing didn’t really change how I felt about the kissing.”

He made a broad, arching motion with his hands and smiled.

“Gender is a social construct and I don’t care _at all_ what cute person identifies as if they want to kiss me, they’re still cute and I will still kiss them.”

Youngjo felt like his head was spinning. If Hwanwoong said one more word about kissing, he was going to lose his mind.

“Soon-bok was a little annoyed because she thinks being pansexual is getting dealt the hand of the most convenient sexuality,” Hwanwoong added. “She was _more_ annoyed when we realized I’d made out with her new girlfriend like a week before they met. Casually, we weren’t like... a thing.”

“How are you so—okay with all of this?” Youngjo asked. “I feel like I’ve been in full fight-or-flight panic mode since 6th grade.”

“Because nothing _changed,_ ” Hwanwoong said, laughing. “It wasn’t like I suddenly became someone or something else—I’m still me. I’m still the same guy I’ve always been, I just know a little bit more about myself than I used to know. That’s not a bad thing!”

He reached out to catch both of Youngjo’s hands, stopping to smile up at him while he interlaced their fingers.

“You haven’t changed either, you know,” he said. “I just know more about you, too.”

“I literally have never told another soul about any of this,” Youngjo confessed.

“I’m not going to ask you why, because you already said you’re scared,” Hwanwoong said. “I’m just making a very pointed case for being honest with the people who matter, so you can be okay with you. Hyung, I mean this from the bottom of my heart in the nicest way possible—I do not give a shit that you’re gay.”

“Even though I hug you kind of a lot,” Youngjo said. Hwanwoong’s expression twitched.

“You do,” Hwanwoong said. “That’s fine.”

“Even now that you know I’m—”

“Yes,” Hwanwoong said, cutting him off abruptly and spinning. “Yes, that’s fine.”

“Hwanwo—”

“Why would it bother me?” Hwanwoong continued, seeming a bit more stressed than before. “It doesn’t, obviously.”

Something was off. The extremely confident young man that had just finished explaining his own journey through sexuality and insisting he was not concerned in the slightest about Youngjo’s was also the same young man standing with his back turned and arms pulled in close to his sides, like he was hugging himself. Like he was folding in on himself. 

Like he was protecting himself.

“You’re lying, Hwanwoong,” Youngjo said, and Hwanwoong got even smaller.

“Only a little bit,” he admitted. Youngjo wrapped his arms around Hwanwoong’s waist from behind, pulling him back against his chest.

“Tell me, then,” Youngjo said into his ear. Hwanwoong took a deep, steadying breath. 

“I know you’re hugging me for friend reasons,” Hwanwoong said finally.

“And?”

“...and sometimes I _pretend_ you’re doing it for not-friend reasons,” he continued. “Which is rude and I definitely shouldn’t do it, but I’ve just told you so the whole point is rendered moot.”

Youngjo’s heart fluttered.

“Earlier, you said you were looking for it,” Youngjo reminded him. “Is that why?”

“I mean,” Hwanwoong said, flushing up to his ears. “It makes the daydreams feel a bit more real if I can convince myself you’re secretly into me.”

“Hwanwoong, turn around,” Youngjo said, stepping back just enough for Hwanwoong to face him—and immediately be pulled in close again. “I have a question.”

“Oh god,” Hwanwoong said, pressing his nose to Youngjo’s collarbone.

“Am I cute?” The puff of air on his chest gave him goosebumps.

“Not the word I would use,” Hwanwoong said.

“Oh?”

“Handsome,” Hwanwoong filled in. “Attractive. Hot. Take your pick.”

“I was kind of hoping for cute,” Youngjo admitted. “You seemed so excited about kissing cute people...”

Hwanwoong jerked his head up, meeting Youngjo’s eyes and quickly cycling through emotions that Youngjo could read like a book.

“You’re cute,” Hwanwoong said firmly, more flushed than Youngjo could ever remember seeing him. “Adorable, precious, darling, so cute, so very very cu—”

When Youngjo kissed him, Hwanwoong’s entire body tensed up in Youngjo’s arms, before almost immediately melting. He threw his arms around Youngjo’s neck and gasped against his mouth. Youngjo just held him tighter, feeling equal parts joyous and exhilarated. He’d never kissed someone like this before, and if he really thought about it, there was nobody else he’d rather be kissing either.

They parted for a moment to breathe.

“Why didn’t you come out to me _ages_ ago,” Hwanwoong complained. “We could have gotten _so much kissing done_ by now!”

“Sorry,” Youngjo apologized, pecking him on the forehead. “Guess I had to do all of this first.”

“I will forgive you on the sole condition that you—” He was interrupted by another kiss, which he enjoyed for some time before remembering he’d been trying to say something and leaning back. He opened his mouth... then closed it.

“Fuck it, you’re forgiven,” he said firmly, standing up on his toes to steal another kiss.

They were very, _very_ late getting home.


End file.
